Ace of Spades
by ladeedah42
Summary: With the Queen of Hearts overthrown, the challenge now begins to rebuild Wonderland. Jaaque Divine, the new King of Hearts, enlists the help of a dark recluse who has been living in Wonderland's dilapidated Opera House for the last twenty years. With the Black Knights hell-bent on taking over, can the Phantom save Wonderland and rescue his Queen of Spades from our world?...
1. King of Hearts

**A/N: Hi guys, this is my first attempt at ff. **

**After trialling previously un-trialled homeopathic remedies, I ended up lying awake for most of the night and this story was the brain-child of the long, arduous minutes that silently crept by...secretly…secretly…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera or Alice in Wonderland.**

**Chapter 1 - King of Hearts**

Jaaque Divine stands at the grand entrance, looking up. He hasn't seen anything so magnificent in his life. The door is four times his heights and three times his arm span, made of something he has only seen small samples of. He has heard stories of the grandeur of this place. The architecture, the attention to detail. In the door, under the sheen, roses are carved in. So small and delicate, barely noticeable, but it's on every inch of the door. Why, it must have taken years to do that and such craftsmanship. The wide, fascinated smile on his face falters a moment as he realises that the man behind the amazing carving is probably dead now.

He touches the handle, laughing in disbelief at what it's made of. Black Unicorn horns. He supposed they had to do something with the Black Knights means of transport. He runs his fingers down it and focuses back on what the door is made of: Inkwood. He fails to remember how it's made or where it came from, but there is one rumour about it Jaaque would like to settle.

He places his palm gently on the surface of the dark wood and sure enough, it ripples under his touch. He doesn't feel the ripple, he just sees it - as though ink were trapped under glass. He notices also a sheen of deep green as it ripples again and he laughs, amazed.

"I can't believe it," he mutters, his eyes large with joy.

He pushes his hand on the door harder and it opens slightly. It's too heavy for him to keep pushing so he steps in, the door shutting again behind him. Jaaque Divine remains still. He hears music…but not any music. Proper music. The kind he hasn't heard in years and years. He'd almost forgotten what real music was. He'd forgotten what real architecture was. He cant help but close his eyes. The music brews deeper and darker - swirling almost - he never knew music to swirl. To fill every crack and crevasse, to replace gravity and hold you standing in a completely different way. Jaaque felt different. Twenty years without music and now he knows why Wonderland was such a bleak place. This kind of sound could change the weather- it felt that powerful.

He came to the Spades last, thinking it the least important. Wonderland needs an economy, it needs justice, it needs to be rebuilt. That is what Wonderland needs but now he knows that the Spades are needed. To add life to the place. Emotion. To put the Wonder back in Wonderland. This place, this music. . .it shouldn't be confined to a single opera house heard by the one person who lives here.

The music stops.

No warning. No slow decent into silence. It vanishes and with it, it takes the life and gravity and emotion out of the building. He blinks a few times, finally taking in his immediate surroundings. His jaw drops open. The walls and ceiling are all made out of Inkwood. He looks down, noticing the floors as well. The room is beyond his imagination. He always thought the palace was a grand piece of work but this…

He heard the Spades were unbeaten in architecture and this proves it. Even though parts of the building are destroyed, it is still breath-taking. The ceiling, though mostly Inkwood, has sections of black glass set in, giving the space light, but not ruining the mood. In the middle, hanging precariously, is by far the largest, most grandest chandelier he's ever seen, laden with thousands… no, hundreds of thousands of shards of black glass and diamonds.

"Shot me down and feed me to Grundlhurse. What a place," he mutters to himself.

He begins walking toward the centre of the room, unable to help but grin as the floor ripples beneath him. He looks around guiltily and starts changing the pattern of his steps. Finally he gives in and starts dancing on it, laughing as the ripples change, green moving around the floor. He laughs a bit more and finally comes to a halt under the chandelier.

"What a place."

"_What_ do you want, Jaaque?"

The voice startles him and he looks around. The voice is powerful, strong. It could strike fear in a person…not Jaaque, but anybody else for sure. You don't see what he saw and experienced what he has and come out afraid of much.

"Ah…" he looks around the broken walls, trying to spot the voice yet knowing he wont. Cat told him he likes to remain hidden.

"The infamous Phantom of the Opera." He beams. "That's their name for you, anyway."

He imitates a spooky ghost sound and laughs, hearing nothing back.

"Nice place you got here," he adds. Hearing nothing, he sighs, tapping his foot on the floor letting it ripple. He still smiles at it.

"Behold our King," spits the Phantom. "A man entertained by flooring is to rule Wonderland. Joy of joys."

Jaaque laughs and nods, smoothing down his red hair and straightening his bow-tie.

"They are lovely floors."

"_What _do you want, Jaaque?"

"What's that music thing you were playing? It was…stunning."

"The half moon. The only one left in wonderland no thanks to your mother."

"Yeah…she never was a fan of people more talented than herself. Anyway, I'm here because I need your help."

"I'm really not the person to potty train you, Jaaque," the Phantom says, a grin evident in his voice. Jaaque laughs and takes a seat.

"I'm only five years younger…we used to play together, remember? We used to play Knights. You and Nadir were always Black Knights. You two were the cool ones. I remember thinking once - as you were tying me to a tree - how cool it would be to be you. And_ you -_ son of an Ace! Oh come on! Everyone wanted to be you. Aces were way cooler than being boring royalty…not that I remember your name…it wasn't Phantom. We just called you son of Ace. Your father was-"

"_Do not_ talk about my father! Why are you here?" The Phantom was losing patience – along with people skills and manners. This is what Cat told him anyway. Jaaque decides to get to the point.

"There is a Queen of Spades alive. Not the same one your father saved. Her daughter."

"I thought the Queen died with my father!"

"No. That's what we all needed mother and everyone else to believe until we knew who to trust. All the Aces died and for that, I apologise. My mother was…" He grimaced.

There was no word to describe what his mother was and what she did.

"Heartless." Phantom fills in, his voice quiet but still haunting.

"Yes. Ironic, the most heartless woman Wonderland has seen was meant to be the_ Queen_ of Hearts. Beside the point. But your father did not die in vain - nor did any of the other Aces. All succeeded in getting royalty to safety. The original Queen of Diamonds is still alive and has a daughter. The White Knight died but his son - he was perhaps two at the time - was taken to safety. The King and Queen of Clubs died from illness after being taken to safety, but their son…"

"Nadir."

"…he is alive." Jaaque waits for this to sink in, knowing the two were friends at childhood.

"I thought he was dead," comes the quiet, almost inaudible reply.

The walls seem to enhance every sound and syllable, so the pain in the Phantom's voice is not missed by Jaaque. He waits for a cue to continue, brushing imaginary dust off of his red vest.

"And my Queen?" the Phantom asks in a hollow voice.

"Safe. Though…it is delicate because unlike Nadir and the others, she knows nothing of Wonderland or that her mother was a Queen."

"How can she know nothing of Wonderland?! Where is she?" His voice is strong again, the walls echo his demands, clearing cobwebs in their wake.

"She's not in Wonderland. Remember Alice?"

"She rid us of your mother. She deserves half of Wonderland."

"Your Queen is where Alice came from. I have the means for her to get here. I have the means for all of them to get here but I need your help. You know the Black Knights are still in full force. You know that for me to_ rightfully_ be made King I need all the royalty here and you know that for Wonderland to be Wonderland again, we need everyone. We need the Diamonds for the economy and to put a proper justice system in place that doesn't involve heads being rolled. We need the Clubs to help build everything that was destroyed, we need the White Knights for protection and well, as for the Spades…"

He smiles widely. "What's Wonderland without Wonder."

As he expected, there's a silence and he waits it out, taking in the grandeur of the place.

"How can I trust you?" the Phantom asks and Jaaque smiles.

"I've had the means to go and get the royalty and destroy them for the last year. If I wanted them dead, I would have killed them already. I'm not my mother's son."

"So you're your father's. How is that _better_?!" the Phantom scoffs. Jaaque loses his smile and his face turns cold. He stands.

"My father died under my mother's instruction. He died because he went against her and fed the MAAD House with information to get her overthrown. She found out! She killed my father! My good, kind father. I don't talk about your father. Don't you dare talk about mine!" His voice was loud and hard. He could get past the Phantom's lack of manners and friendliness, but assumptions about his father was something he would not tolerate.

"Who told her?" the Phantom asks. Jaaque swallows the lump in his throat and looks down.

"The Tweedle Brothers. They are with the Black Knights."

"The twins. I thought. . ."

"Yes, we all did. The MAAD House kicked them out once they found out they were using the science as weaponry and…they had to go somewhere."

He heard a bitter scoff from somewhere in the Opera House and sits down.

"Do I have your help? Cat said I could trust you."

"What do you need me to do?"

"At the moment? Just keep an eye on her until it's time to get everyone back. Don't tell her anything until that time. If she resists then, you'll have to force her here and show her yourself. I would prefer not to have it happen that way."

"What is her character?"

"Uhhhh, quiet, I believe. A musician, like yourself. Cat thinks she is no threat."

"Miss Cheshire Cat knows her?" the Phantom asks doubtfully.

"She's head of surveillance and security in the MAAD house. Of course she does."

"Do I have your assistance?"

There's another long silence. Very long.

"Will I have to be seen in public?"

Jaaque frowns, confused and stands up, dusting off his pants.

"What an odd question. Yes you will. We need you to make sure your own Queen and the others return safely to the palace. The Black Knights are about so I hope you know how to hold a sword better than a conversation."

"When do I start?"

"Is that a yes?"

There's another silence.

"Yes."

"Excellent! I'll be in touch but in the meantime…"

He goes into his pocket and pulls out a black badge shaped like a spade and puts it on the ground. "Your father's, I believe. Congratulations: you are now officially the Ace of Spades." 

**A/N: You know how every time you clap your hands it brings a fairy back to life? Well every time I get a review, I write a bit more of the next chapter! R&R!**

**Seriously, if you don't review, my Beta is a bit vicious. She lives for the reviews too. She's emotionally invested in this story already. She's sort of like a rhinoceros and a shark crossed together. Think about that people. Think about that, then review.**

**Okay, shutting up now. *taps fingers anxiously waiting for reviews***


	2. Miss Cheshire Cat

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera or Alice in Wonderland.**

**Chapter 2 – Miss Cheshire Cat**

Upon hearing the door close behind Jaaque, The Phantom slides down the wall slowly, his head buried in his hands, waiting to either weep or vomit. He's yet to know which of the two will happen.

All these years, _years_ he thought his father had died for nothing. He thought his friend had died for nothing. He thought this place, this music, would sit here wasting away, forgotten and empty until the end of Wonderland. It had all been a lie. A ruse to trick the Queen of Hearts into a false sense of security.

He'd be lying if he said that having the Queen overthrown didn't spark something in him but that spark soon died because what was there to hope for? His father was still dead. His friend was still dead. His Queen of Spades was still dead. The only scrap of hope was pinned on the new King and betting on him that he wouldn't totally neglect the Pawns and everyone else in Wonderland.

He clenched a fist. He knows there are still Spades out there, just like there are White Knights and Clubs and Diamonds. The MAAD House may not have assisted in the battle against the Queen of Hearts, but without their warning all of the Royals would never have known to send people away to save their race. The Phantom knows this better than anyone. His father sent him to be one of the handful of Spades to be rescued…

A wad of anguish grips him again as he remembers disobeying his father's wish, that horrid black day resurfacing in his memory. He chokes on the repressed emotion now escaping and tears begin to fall. Khan is alive. His Queen is alive. Oh how this changes everything! He knows a chance to redeem himself when he sees it. He doesn't think he deserves it, he has no idea what he's expected to do but his Father's blood runs through his veins. He was a strong, wise and devoted man. So even if he tries to be half the man, _a fraction_ of the man his father was, he'll be able to do something right._Finally_. He's waited long enough.

He chokes and coughs again, his palms in his eyes and his fingers gripping onto his unruly dark hair. He still cant believe it. Jaaque Divine wants_his_ help. Sure, he was a weasley kid who used to brag a bit too much about being royalty but he wasn't a total waste of space. He's seems to have turned out…tolerably. After what Jaaque must have seen passing through those Palace doors growing up, he would have had to pick a side fairly quickly, and it seems he picked the right one.

The Phantom pulls his hands off his face and looks upwards, a laugh off all things escaping. In all of this, he doesn't notice the creature standing right next to him.

"Such_drama_."

The Phantom sits up, his hair falling over his face and he sees next to him…legs. Legs that are seemingly dipped in copper, draped in lace and heels no doubt carved from some endangered animal from long ago. The Phantom keeps his hair over his face, hiding the severed skin which defines his reputation, and grimaces. He knows those legs - he knows that smooth, purring voice too. He doesn't need to look up.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asks roughly. He knows it's stupid to ask Cat how she got in without him noticing. He'll never figure that out.

"Oh whose counting? The important thing is that I'm here."

She rests her hip on the railing, folding her arms. "I come bearing gifts!"

He hears her clap her hands and Phantom keeps his head down.

"Oh for goodness sake, I've seen the face, remember? No need to bother hiding it from me."

"Right?" he spits. "And who have you told? I'm sure that piece of information bought you a pair of shoes or two."

"Oh grief. Artistic people are _so_ dramatic. Nobody knows, not even Jaaque. He didn't offer me enough." She laughs and then stops when he doesn't join in, rolling her eyes. "Oh lighten up! Come on. Here - take that." The Spade badge lands on his lap and he picks it up, wrapping his fingers around it. His father was hardly seen without this badge. He finally glances up at Cat and she half smiles.

There's nothing about her he trusts. Her slow quiet walk, her half-smiles - or her whole one – nor her beckoning voice or her vivid orange cat eyes. The molten copper that covers to her shoulders moves as she does, always looking wet and the Cocoa brown lace is draped and tucked around her in long effortless lengths. He guesses this is life five out of nine and she hasn't changed a bit. Every man in Wonderland wilts when she's anywhere near them.

She puts her hand out, her smile wide and tempting though not flirtatious like she's sometimes accustomed to. "Come on. I've already set it all up. Come." He grips the Spade in his hand and pulls himself up, ignoring her hand. "Good Phantom!" she beams, then makes her way across the thin fallen rafter towards the Phantom's lair. He really will have to be careful around her…she knows too much and could use it as ammunition the second she chooses. There's a reason she's head of security.

"Soooooo." She spins on her heel to face him, the grin still in place. "Looking Glass."

She gestures widely to a mirror hanging on his wall in front of his half moon. The Phantom's lip twitches as he sees his own reflection. His hair comes past his shoulders, it's knotty and oily; he hasn't bothered shaving in a long time and black drab clothes hang off his tall frame, making him look thinner and more pale. He doesn't even bother looking at his face.

"Great. I love those," he mutters darkly to himself. Cat pouts.

"It's not there for vanity, honey. You can see out, they can't see in unless you want them to."

She switches it on somehow and all of a sudden, a shop appears. A music shop of all things! He flinches and covers his face but Cat rolls her eyes. "I did say they can't see you! See…"

She stands in front of it and poses, the people inside the shop not even noticing.

"Then we have sound…" She flicks another button. "Excuse me, maam?" she calls out and a few people look up and around, trying to see where the voice came from, except one. An older woman who looks into the mirror and glares, then looks away again. Cat turns the sound off and beams "She doesn't count. Madam Giri knows about the mirror. None of the others do."

"The Queen of Diamonds? That's. . ."

"Yes. All are them are there somewhere. Except Christine, your Queen in training. She starts tomorrow. You are only allowed to speak to her. When she is there by herself you can talk to her but not about Wonderland. Your phony back-story and her real one are on your half moon. Study it well. You can tell her the truth when she has to come here. Also, you'll need this when she comes through the mirror." She tosses him a hat and Phantom growls.

"Hatter," he mutters.

"He's very proud of this one. You don't get out much so you'll need it. It is basically going to be your directions. It will tell you where to go and warn you of any danger you may be heading towards. MAAD Hatter may be nuts, but he knows what he's doing and…one more thing…Caterpillar heard you might be a little, what's the word, _apprehensive _about going out in public so he made you this."

She pulls something out of another hidden spot on her person and hands it to him. A small piece of cloth, soft…possibly made of Bandersnatch leather. He looks at her, confused, and pauses upon seeing something different in her bright eyes. Her smile softens and she steps towards him, taking it from him. His hand snatches her wrist when it comes towards his face but she doesn't flinch, or roll her eyes. She just raises in eyebrow in wait. He wonders how she knows he's going to let her go. He apprehensively loosens the grip he has on her and she just smiles again, stepping forward with the cloth. Phantom stand there, stiffly as she does something with it, her fingers softening it over the burnt and tortured side of his face. Twenty years of next to no human contact and now this.

"It's thick enough to stay in place and hide what you want, but soft enough to breathe and not hurt you." She flattens a certain piece and steps back. "There." Her voice is soft, trusting - if he dares to think it. "Take a look now."

The view to the shop closes down and his reflection peers back. Cat pulls his hair out of the way and he sees his face, the mask curving around his left eye and over his cheek, disappearing below the ear.

"Is it meant to look like half a Spade?" he asks, touching it.

"Noooo. Total mistake. Utter coincidence," she smirks and steps away, also looking in the mirror and tilting her head to the side. "We will have to give you a shave though and a hair cut…and perhaps have you looking a little smarter. The MAAD House will sort you out in that department. Christine will have to see you eventually and right now, you really don't scream, 'Trust me, I'm not going to behead you'."

Phantom looks at her curiously. Her orange eyes are wide, an eyebrow cocked.

"Why are you helping me?" he asks and she smiles, giving him a wink.

"Never you mind," she says and spins on her heel. "Now! We'd better get started, hadn't we?"

The Phantom watches Miss Cheshire Cat turn to her pile of things in the corner. There's something about her that he can't figure out. She's known as a flirty creature who gets the information she wants by using sly techniques. With the Phantom though, she seems different - that look, particularly when she was putting the mask on his face, something was different. There are many things he can suspect but, as is the case with everything else people know about Miss Cheshire Cat, it will probably remain a mystery to him.

**A/N: Review please!**


	3. The Oblivious Queen

The Phantom of the Opera.

A title that strikes wonder and fear and mystery into those who hear it. The man himself couldn't help but grin just a little when he heard it. He hoped the name spread. He hoped that people would think twice before entering his Opera House. He hoped that if they do enter, they would do so with trepidation.

Even the Ace of Spades has a certain something about it. It demands peoples respect and inspires awe. The Phantom doesn't feel he deserves this title yet but he still has played around with the idea in his mind. He's been feared as The Phantom for so long, he wonders if he can really just take on the persona of the good guy so quickly. He doesn't feel comfortable in the name yet, just like he doesn't feel comfortable in his new clothing.

They're both a far cry from his real name. He hoped people had forgotten his real name. To him, the boy with that name died the day his father died. He didn't laugh like that boy anymore. He didn't smile, or live or muster up the courage to care anymore. With everyone he cared about dead and Wonderland being sucked into twenty years of The Red Queens horrors, what was there to laugh about anymore? The old him is buried somewhere deep in the rubble of the fallen half of the Opera House. . . or so he thought. The name, apparently, wasn't buried deep enough.

The Phantom stares down at his fake back story and, more specifically at the name that has now flown back to hit him in the face like Hatters stupid boomerang hat.

_Erik Destler._

What does that name conjurer up? What kind of fear or wonder or mystery is in that name? There isn't any. It lacks in pretty much everything The Phantom is aspiring to be. Mysterious. Heroic. A man of presence. The name Erik does not strike fear in enemies or wonder in strangers.

It makes him feel...ordinary. Like the common people. A pawn.

There are other things he doesn't like about the set up. His back story is as follows: Erik Destler owns the building the music shop resides in. He goes in there to sometimes record music in a room that is behind glass in the evenings. Disturb him at your own peril.

As dull as his cover story is, the people who aren't Madame Giry have fallen for it. Meg Giry, her daughter so far is the only one who has been there by herself at night to sort out orders and even calls out a farewell to 'Mr Destler'. He's been told to talk to nobody except Christine so he hasn't replied. Meg is nothing like he expected as far as being a Diamond was concerned. They are usually stiff people- cold almost. The role they play (and that her Mother played wonderfully) are that of being unbiased judges, exacting economists and flawless lawyers. Meg, oddly enough is too happy and cheerful to be a Diamond or maybe she just needs more training. She's even younger than Christine.

The man in line to be the White King and to lead the White Knights is one Raoul De Changy and doesn't look too prepared for his role either. He's cocky, slightly arrogant and likes the ladies way too much. The exact opposite to what a White Knight is supposed to be. They were brave, wise men who worked hard and had a strong sense of loyalty. The insolent boy has much to learn.

As for The Club and his friend, Nadir Khan, he has hardly changed. He is everything his father was and more. Silent, solid but a damn hard worker. The Phantom looks forward to hopefully meeting with him again soon. His father was in charge of building the Opera house which meant the two boys worked together and played together for years. He's happy his friend has not changed- as odd as it seems to use the word 'happy'.

At the moment though, as The Phantom plays on his Halfmoon, filling his world and theirs with music, his focus is on Christine Daae. The oblivious Queen of Spades.

He doesn't remember much about her mother when she ruled. He met her a few times. She had a voice like an angel, she played the Lusterrell like nobody else and Christine looks exactly like her. Long, dark curls, large deep blue eyes and a frame that looks more fragile than a glass whisker. She's kind and a good worker but that is not to say The Phantom finds her without faults. She's shy. A shy queen is the last thing the Spades need coming out of the Red Queens rule and she has a sadness about her. According to the notes Cat gave him, she lost her father not even a year ago and is now on her own. Quite simply, he is overwhelmed at the task before him.

Tonight will be the first time she is alone in the shop and he has to speak to her. . .as Erik Destler. He shudders at the name, continuing to play as he listens to Meg and Christine talk.

"You know what to do Chrissie?" Meg asks. "You're okay by yourself?"

"Yes. Fine, thank you." Is the quiet reply. Meg beams a smile.

"Awesome! I have my economics exam tomorrow so I'm off to study though. . .thank goodness because Raoul had another go at asking me out. I told him to quit asking unless he wants a tuba for a neck. . ." she laughs at her own joke and even The Phantom accidentally chuckles, the sound of it startles himself just as much as the two young women. Meg looks up at the mirror and waves. "Glad you approve, Mr Destler. Happy playing." She was then out the door with a flick of her blond hair. The Phantom may not think she's ready to be a Diamond but she is still very entertaining and has more than once over the week had him smiling. He has no idea what a tuba is but he too would like to see something drastic done to the young De Changy boy.

Now though, it's just Christine, aware of the Phantom. . .no. . .Eric Destler's presence in the next room. She cleans and rearranges the shop, unaware of the intense gaze of the man behind the mirror.

The Phantom starts a new piece of music, only because he is yet to think of what to say to Christine. What do you say to someone when you aren't allowed to talk about Wonderland or what her future holds? She doesn't even know who her mother was, what she did for people and how much she was adored by everyone. The music grows deeper and darker...complicated. He finds his halfmoon can almost mirror exactly everything going on in his head. . . losing hours in thought and sound. He all of a sudden stops playing.

He cant afford to lose hours. He only has a small window of opportunity to talk to Christine. . .about what though? He looks at her, noticing she's paused- suspended in activity. She then looks up at the mirror and he flinches. It feels as though he's looking directly at her but she isn't, she can't be. The Phantom, holds her gaze into the mirror and clears his throat.

"Is something the matter, Miss Daae."

Despite him attempting his rarely used soft tone, she still jumps, shaking her head.

"Sorry. . . Sir, I . . ."

"Sir?" he asks confused. Only very high-ranking men are called sir in his world. Still. . .it's better than Erik.

"Sorry, Mr Destler, I mean. I was just. . ." She looks down at the floor, standing close the looking glass, a small smile on her face. Is it a smile? He wonders. Surely not. He edges closer to the mirror slowly, head cocked to the side. "You play very well. . .I was just. . .lost in the music and then you stopped. . ." she looks at the mirror again, clearly seeing nothing but her own reflection. "I forgot where I was a moment."

Phantom stands there a moment. He's not used to his music affecting other people. . .it's only been him the last twenty years. He's had none to play for or with. Christine, after a while of getting no response, turns away to keep working.

"Do you play anything, Miss Daae?"

She spins around and nods, still looking a little startled.

"Um. . .the piano and. . .and the violin, a little. . . though not as well as you. I've never heard a piano played like that."

He looks at his half moon, named after it's shape and with three layers of keys on it. It takes years to master one layer let alone all three. It can hardly be compared to the simple piano she is talking about but describing the musical instruments in wonderland is not on his list of approved subjects so he leaves it alone.

"Yes. . .years of practice and a few modifications will do that."

She just nods and smiles gently.

"Sorry to disturb you, Mr Destler." She turns back to her duties and the Phantom paces the length of the mirror a few times, his hands behind his back in thought. He's been observing her and the other from behind this glass for just over a week now and she still barely speaks half a word to the people she works with yet here she was, though painfully shy still willing to talk and why? Because it was about music. His language. He smiles at this, his faith in The Spades' future a little stronger now so he stops pacing and turns to the mirror again.

"Miss Daae?" Again she gets a fright and spins around. Phantom finds himself smiling at this slightly.

"You should come with a bell Mr Destler. I thought you had left." This is said quietly, with read cheeks. He takes a step back, picks up a bell and rings it at which she laughs. She has a raspy laugh, again, like her mother's. He'd forgotten her mother laughed like that until now. He smiles at the good memory. Grief- the fact he's smiling! Since when does he smile.

"Miss Daae, would you do the honor of playing for me?"

The laughter stops and she steps back, shaking her head.

"No, please. I . . .my skills fail in comparison to yours. Please sir."

Sir again. . . all this time and no mention of Erik. This isn't going as badly as he thought.

"A deal then. . . I play if you play."

"Please. I'd rather not. Why don't you just play and I'll work. The last person I played in front of was my music teacher and even then. . ."

"We'll then. . .it can't be too hard. You can't see me. Pretend I'm not here."

The Phantom watches as she begins to waver, ringing her hands.

"You promise you will play something also?"

"You have my word."

She paces a little more then stops.

"Can I play in the dark?"

This gives Phantom a moment of pause and he steps closer.

"Pardon?"

"I play better when it's dark. I . . .it makes me feel. . .the music better. It sounds weird, I know but. . ."

"You don't have to explain yourself, Christine. You're speaking my language. . .a rare thing."

"Really?" she smiles, looking relieved.

"Go ahead. . ."

He'd never heard the piece of music before and it bothered him that he couldn't see her. He could feel it though. Boy could he. You can understand a lot about a person by how they play. She started off slowly, shyly, making mistakes but eventually, as it happens with him, it started to flow smoothly, filling the air with a music that felt like sweet sticky warm honey. He would love to teach her the halfmoon and every and any other piece of music her could teach her. Perhaps he could in the future- maybe even the near future. She plays with emotion.

It's the key. Some people approach music like a mathematical problem- like a color between the lines set of instructions. She plays how Phantom does and how Spades have been taught to play. Because of this, there were thousands of versions of the same piece of music going around. People translated it to sad, triumphant, disparages, lonely, happy, angry. It was how you told people how you feel. She has mastered this almost to a tee. In all this wonder, he forgets he hasn't said anything yet. Both just sitting in the dark, silence surrounding them. A specific silence. Only musicians get it. It's that rest after something to give the music time to. . .escape? Is that the word. To leave it's mark.

"I was a little shaky in the start." she says quietly. He continues staring ahead of him.

"A little." He admits.

There's another long silence and he hears movement. The light comes on in the music shop and a nervous Christine stands there, awaiting a verdict.

"It didn't end happily. Does that happen often?" Phantom asks.

"Pardon."

"Your interpretation of the music. It stayed lonely and. . .sad. Is that often your choice of music?"

She looks down, a small frown on her face.

"Yes." she admits. "My. . .I lost my father last year. Little for me seems to be ending happily lately. . .I hope I didn't depress you Mr Destler."

Phantom sits on his chair, in front of the half moon and shakes his head, stunned at how somebody else's music has made him feel.

"Not at all, Ms Daae. . ." he begins to play a few soft notes on the half moon. "As I said. You speak my language." he then lets himself fall head first into a piece of music. . .something he hasn't played before. Something he feels he should be writing down. . .he doesn't though. He just plays. . .and thinks, unsure what his Future Queen is doing to him.


End file.
